Say I'm Your Heart
by Lauren the Oxymoron
Summary: While helping Shannon cope with her newest heartbreak, Claire realizes that love isn't entirely out of the question for herself yet.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer- Lost and all characters belong to JJ and Damon. Title belongs to Starsailor

A/N- Okay, I think that I need to see a psychiatrist, because I can never finish anything that I start, and in the process start up about five new things never to be finished. That's basically where this story came from. But I have some ideas on where to go with it, so it has some potential. Let's all be optomists here.

And I know it's under the Charlie/Claire section, and I swear that it will be a Charlie/Claire fic in coming chapters, even though it seems like it will be a Shannon/Boone one in this chapter. It's going to be a Charlie/Claire and Shannon/Boone fic with the emphasis on the Charlie/Claire, just not in this chapter. There, that's what I'm trying to say.

The title comes from a Starsailor song called "Restless Heart." Starsailor is excellent, if you haven't heard them, it's about time you did. There is another small Starsailor reference in this chapter, and if you know what it is, we need to talk. Because I've yet to meet another Starsailor fan. The title so far doesn't have any significance whatsoever to the story, it was just the song I was listening to when I wrote it.

That's all.

Say I'm Your Heart

Claire sat at her desk watching the minutes tick away. She desperately wanted to get out of here for the night. It had been a long day and she had Aaron for the night. She watched Shannon fighting heatedly with her step-brother, Boone, through the glass partition. Those two were in a constant state of tumult. Shannon's face was a cool facade, that only Claire could read due to being Shannon's secretary for two years as well as being her sole confidante ever since the day a year and a half ago when Shannon broke down at work and spilled everything to Claire. Ever since, Shannon told Claire everything about her and Boone's incestuous love affair, how Sabrina, Boone's mom, meddled into their relationship and how Boone often tossed her aside, saying that she was only someone for him to fool around with. It was a dysfunctional relationship, but Claire knew that Shannon had genuine feelings of love for Boone, that were definitely more than sisterly. By the looks of it, Boone was casually tossing Shannon aside again for some other plastic girl. Shannon was holding herself together remarkably well, but as soon as Boone left, Claire knew she would be a wreck. Shannon always said that she had to keep herself composed in front of Boone, so that he thought that he was only someone for her to fool around with too.

Abruptly, Boone pushed his way out of Shannon's office. His eyes were dark and angry, and when he threw a look at her, Claire thought that she had been burned. After slamming the door dramatically (rather unsuccessfully, because it was a power assist door), Claire turned to look at her friend, whos shoulders finally sagged after Boone left the vicinity. Immediatly, Claire got up and went to comfort her friend.

"Shan?" she said, tentatively poking her head in. Shannon looked horrible up close. Furious red spots were covering Shannon's face, tears rimmed her eyes, threatening to fall, her body looked wearied and ragged. She looked positively defeated.

"He's done it again, Claire. There's another girl," Shannon said, looking up to the ceiling to keep her tears from falling. "Why does he always do this to me?" she said, hurt, anger and helplessness seeping into her voice. Claire made a sympathetic sound and came into the office, shutting the door behind her.

Personally, Claire didn't see why Shannon was so swept away by Boone. He was too intense for Claire. According to Shannon, he was a gentle, sweet, loving guy, but Claire just didn't see it. Maybe love just blinded Shannon to Boone's faults. She was always there for him when it didn't work out with his latest girl, all thoughts of how he had brushed her aside so easily before were swept away. It really pained Claire how much of a doormat Shannon was to Boone. She had tried many times to make Shannon swear off of Boone, but all the work she had done with Shannon were forgotten as soon as Boone stepped back into her house. When Claire confronted Shannon about this, Shannon told her that she couldn't help it, that she would rather take the suffering that came along with Boone because the nights when there were no other girls were the best of her life.

But Shannon and Boone's messed up relationship wasn't a total waste, there was a small bit of good that came along with it. It served Claire with another reason never to fall in love. Never to fall in love again, that is. Not that she needed another reason anyway. She already had a very jaded outlook on love and the things that came along with it. The last time she fell in love, she ended up with a child, but without a boyfriend or husband. Not that she ever looked at Aaron as a mistake though. No, of all areas in her life, Aaron was the only one that seemed to be right.

In motherhood, Claire had found her niche. The idea of becoming a mother at 23 had terrified Claire at first. If she could have, she probably would have followed Thomas out of that front door. As it were, she couldn't have and didn't follow him out of the door and out of the responsibility of being a parent. The first month without Thomas, her sixth month of her pregnancy, had been the worst. She sat at the front door with the phone in her hand, certain that Thomas would either walk back in or call her and apologize, and she would only be so eager to do so. If hadn't been for Shannon, who had recently taken her into her confidence, who came into Claire's house and ripped the phone out of her hand and took her away from the front door, Claire would probably still be sitting there, waiting for him. After Shannon's intervention, Claire came to accept the fact that Thomas wasn't coming back and realized that she could survive without him. Without all men, for that matter. It was around that time when Claire's heart hardened and cooled towards the general male popoulation. But when Aaron was born, all reservations she had towards becoming a mother were completely erased and forgotten as soon as she saw his smooth skin, his tiny fingers with his perfect little nails, his already unruly mop of blonde curls, and those eyes-- those huge innocent eyes that mirrored her own almost exactly, minus the harsh outlook. Immediatly, Claire fell unconditionally in love with this tiny perfect being-- her own flesh and blood. Nothing could make a long, hard day like this one better than coming home to Aaron's big smile, his warm eyes and his uncalculated love. In her storm of hatred against men, Aaron was her white dove, her hope that not all men were lechers and bloodsuckers.

"Her name is Natasha," Shannon said miserably. "And she is a designer. Sabrina introduced them at some fashion show. Apparently Natasha designs some of the wedding dresses at Sabrina's company," Shannon explained, looking determinedly at the ceiling; she refused to cry at work. "She did this, that insufferable bitch!" Shannon said, finding her anger. She looked down from the ceiling, her eyes blazing. "She always hated me, ever since she married my father. After he died she hated me even more, like it was my fault he died and left me as a burden to her. And she always hated how close Boone and I were, because I showed Boone what a momma's boy he is and I put a rift between them. She hates me because she knows that I'm the only one who will raise a hand to her, I'm the only one who can defeat her. Only now she has beaten me," Shannon said, visibly crumbling as she slumped back into her chair, her eyes fixed at the ceiling again.

Claire bit her lip. She was never any good in these situations, the only hurts she could heal were Aaron's. Shannon would never let Claire touch her during these vulnerable times, because any human contact and comfort would allow her emotions to catch up with her, no matter how hard or how long Shannon looked up at the ceiling, and everything Claire thought of to say to Shannon sounded empty and vapid.

"Maybe this is the time to finally break free, Shan, to get away from Boone and all the hurt that follows him. Once you are free of him, you will be so much happier, I know you will! At first it will be hard, you think that you can't do it, but if you brazen it out, you will be so much better for it! I just hate seeing you like this, Shannon, and no matter how great he is when there is no one else, it can't be worth all this pain!" Claire finally burst out, voicing an opinion that she had been keeping to herself for one and a half years.

Shannon looked down at Claire from the ceiling, her eyes swimming. "You just don't get it, Claire. You hate all men, you are as cold as ice. I need men, I need their attention and their touch in order to feel secure. But all the men, they give me their attention-- for awhile-- and they pet and pull at me, but in the end I'm just another mark to them. With Boone it's different. He makes me feel special. He gives me the attention I want, and he pets and pulls at me as much as the next guy, but when I'm with him, I don't feel like I'm a mark, a high class whore. I feel loved and important, and only Boone can make me feel that way. It doesn't matter to me that he's my stepbrother or that he doesn't feel the same way about me. If you have been looked at and used as much as I have, Claire, you too would suffer through these rough times to actually be seen and loved from time to time."

Claire bit her lip, she wanted so much to tell Shannon that she was contradicting herself by saying that Boone looked at her and loved her and in the same breath say that he could toss her aside so easily. But Shannon looked like she was about to break down, and Claire didn't think that Shannon wanted to get into another fight, much less would she be able to considering her current defeated state.

Shannon sighed resignedly. "Just say it, Claire. I can tell that you have something to say and you know how I hate it when people won't say what's on their minds. It shows weakness," Shannon said, tapping into her usual prickly personality.

"It's just that... how can you say that Boone sees you and loves you when he always threws you aside when someone else walks by? If you ask me, that doesn't sound like he loves or sees you," Claire said tentatively, watching Shannon carefully.

To her surprise, Shannon had a small, sad smile on her face. "Boone has always been a spoiled, pampered child. He always drops whatever he is holding when something newer or prettier comes his way. But I always noticed, even when we were younger, he would always go back to the thing he loves the most. That's how I know he loves me, Claire. He always comes back."

But what if he doesn't come back this time? Claire shouted in her head. But even if she had said it out loud, Claire knew that Shannon wouldn't hear her. She didn't want to hear her. All her life Shannon had been pushed around from one step-family to the next, she hadn't been taught that she deserved better than to be pushed around by her step-brother and lover too.

Claire nodded in a placatory way, standing up from her chair opposite of Shannon. "I just don't like seeing you this way, Shannon, and I don't know how to make you feel any better."

Shannon turned her sad smile on to Claire. "There's nothing that you can do to make me feel better. Only I can do that," Shannon said in an odd philosophical way.

Claire nodded again, heading towards the door. She rested her hand on the handle and turned back to Shannon, "You are always welcome at my place, Shannon. And I have lots of sad love movies and ice cream in the freezer," Claire said invitingly.

Shannon smiled at her. "No, I think I better face this one alone. Thanks, though,"

Claire nodded easily, "Goodnight, Shannon."

"Night, Claire"

Claire walked over to her desk, shut down her computer, grabbed her keys, purse and coat and prepared to leave. She cringed as she saw that it was already 6:12. Fifteen minutes late. Thomas was not going to be happy.

After Aaron was born and an announcement was placed in the paper, Thomas came to see Claire She had been shocked and upset at first and wouldn't allow him to see Aaron. After some conversation that was about as civil as Claire could get with Thomas, he told her that he wanted to see Aaron and have at least partial custody of him. After about a month of fighting and finally resorting to lawyers, an agreement was reached. Thomas had joint custody of Aaron and he had Aaron on the weekends and most holidays.

He had asked Claire if he could stay with him an extra day this week, and Claire had agreed easily. Although she and Thomas would probably never settle their differences, he had a tender spot for his son and Claire would grudgingly admit that he was a good father.

She pulled into the lot of her apartment complex, and grimaced as she saw Thomas' car in the public lot. She parked hurriedly, locked the car and ran up the stairs to her apartment.

"Ma!" came Aaron's boyish squeal of delight as Claire walked down the hall. Aaron's delight did not match his father's surly, scowling face, however.

"You're late," Thomas greeted her, dourly.

"There was an emergency at work," Claire said steadily, but she bristled at the way Thomas acted as if he had ownership over how her time was spent.

Aaron wiggled in Thomas' arms, wanting to go to his mother, who he hadn't seen in three days. Claire quickly unlocked her apartment door and pushed it open, setting her purse and keys on the table and hanging up her coat while Thomas said goodbye to Aaron. She turned to them as he finished, and he handed Aaron to Claire, along with his little suitcase of clothes. Thomas and Claire exchanged tight smiles as they said their goodbye. He turned one last bright smile on Aaron and left with a wave and a promise to see him on Friday.

Claire shut the door, and walked into her apartment, burying her face in Aaron's neck and breathing in the sweet baby smell of him, and finally she was alone with the only man she could find it in her heart to love.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer- I own nothing.

A/N- I was really determined to get this chapter up tonight, so if there are tons of typos or it just sounds plain awful...well, I blame that. I forgot to say in the first chapter that this was an AU, but I'm sure you figured that out on your own. Um.. sorry if I offend any Jack fans, heh.

Pame, I love ya, girl! None of this would be possible without you! Everyone, Pame is the greatest person in the world. Without her, there would be no me.

Please leave a review!

* * *

"Shannon, do I _have_ to go?" Claire asked for about the hundreth time, sitting on her bed and watching her friend riffle through all the clothes in Claire's closet.

"Yes," Shannon said shortly, and judging by her tone of voice she wasn't in the mood to be argued with. "Now, what do you say about this one?" she said, walking out of Claire's closet and holding up a slinky black number. Claire wrinkled her nose, thinking that if she refused every outfit Shannon threw at her, she wouldn't have to go. But she knew that it was a feeble plan that would never work; this was Shannon after all.

"Claire," Shannon said exasperately, the smile on her face falling.

"Shannon, why can't you just get someone else from the office to go? Why is it always me?" Claire said, falling back onto her bed and covering her face with her pillow.

"Because I'm not asking you to go with me as my secretary. I'm asking you to go as my friend," Shannon said in a strangely hurt voice.

Claire groaned and sat up. "Well, I'm not wearing that dress, it hasn't fit right ever since I had Aaron."

"Look, you can say that you won't wear every dress that's in your closet, because you are going tonight, no matter what you wear. You can go naked for all I care,"

And like that, Claire knew she was beat.

* * *

The bass heavy music thudded in Claire's ears and made the wall behind her shudder. She hated this, all of it. She hated the tight, satin blue dress that Shannon had finally picked for her to wear. She hated this loud, erratic rave music, every drum beat and guitar riff of it. She hated all of the people on the dance floor, the girls dancing like cats in heat and the men responding accordingly. She hated the repulsive mixture of sweat and expensive perfume that permeated the sultry room. She hated the way that all the girls looked at her and sized her up, criticizing her without even speaking, and the way the men eyed her, making her feel more vulnerable and self-conscious than ever in this short dress. She hated the way she felt like an outcast, standing on the fringes of the room, nursing a simple rum and Coke, never joining in with the throng of dancers. She hated that she was wasting her evening here, when she could be home with Aaron. She hated how these things were called business parties, a bunch of colleagues and competitors in the field to get together, when they really were just a chance for all the models and designers to grind against one another, hoping to get some ass that night. The whole concept of these dances just seemed sleazy and cheap to Claire. 

Shannon suddenly disentangled herself from the mass of people, her face flushed and smiling. Although it was good to see her friend temporarily happy again, Claire couldn't help but be a bit disgusted by her friend, who she had seen dancing erotically with several men that night. It wasn't that Claire was a prude, she was just as sensual as all the other women there -- well, most of them, -- it was just that Claire couldn't help but see those girls as desperate sluts with low self-esteem, and she was embarrassed and saddened by the fact that her friend was one of them.

"Come on, Claire! Have you danced at all tonight? Even broken a sweat? You're supposed to have fun at these things!" Shannon asked her, taking Claire's drink out of her hand and taking a large gulp of it.

Claire shook her head, feeling a bit annoyed with this whole situation. She had told Shannon that she didn't want to come, and Shannon knew how much Claire hated these things; how did Shannon think that Claire was going to act tonight? To get drunk, dance with a complete stranger and go home with him, all the while knowing that she had a child waiting at home for her? Did Shannon have no compassion?

"How much longer do you think we will be here?" Claire asked miserably. Even she hated the whiny sound of her voice.

"Claire, it's hardly midnight! The party has just begun!" Shannon said, finishing off Claire's drink and handing it back to her, then disappearing into the crowd of people again.

Sighing, Claire returned the empty glass to the bar, then retreated back to her spot on the wall, wishing that she could just melt into it, anything to get away from here. She watched the minutes on the clock tick slowly by, each minute seeming to be longer than the one before, so that Claire was certain the clock must be broken.

"So you feel awkward at these things too?"

Claire turned to see a man standing to her left. She wondered how long he had been there, as she hadn't noticed him until now.

"Excuse me?" she said, not really registering his question, as she had been so lost in her thoughts.

"These 'business parties.' I thought that I was the only one who detested them," he answered her, coming closer.

She felt herself stiffen slightly as he leaned on the wall next to her. Although it was sort of nice not to be the only wallflower here, her prejudice towards men always made her uncomfortable when a male stranger initiated a conversation with her.

"Yeah, they're not really my forte," Claire responded with a small smile, but not looking him in the eye, trying to be friendly, but not insinuating that she in any way wanted this conversation to progress.

"But I've never seen you at one before, and I think that I would remember you," the stranger continued.

Okay, now he had crossed the line from friendly into flirting -- that was an obvious line. Time to get rid of him.

"Well, I try to avoid them, obviously," Claire responded, trying to sound cold. But judging by his unabashed face, it hadn't worked. Time to use a different tactic with him. She turned her face and looked up into his eyes, and suddenly felt burned and frozen at the same time. She chose to ignore this. "So I assume that you're gay?" she said, fixing him with a challenging look.

His eyes bulged in surprise and then he tried to swallow his laughter, "No, definitely not gay," he said, his voice quivering slightly with his suppressed laugh. He cocked an eyebrow at her, "Why do you ask?"

She looked away, not wanting to let her own laugh escape where it was lodged in her throat. Despite being disappointed that her comment hadn't scared him off like she'd hoped, she couldn't help but be amused with his dramatic response. After getting some control over her compulsion to laugh, she turned to him once again, "This is a party for models or designers. If you are here and you are a male, you are either gay or a lecher."

"Wow, that's a little rash and biased of you," the stranger said. Claire blushed, and looked away. He was right, of course, and she was embarrassed of herself. "So, in the same vein, I assume that you are an easy whore, only worse, seeing as I don't even have to pay you." Claire's face was beat red, and she wished that the floor would swallow her whole right about now. She never realized how ignorant and belligerent her bias was until this unwelcome stranger put it in such a sobering way. Suddenly she felt calloused and insensitive. This guy definitely needed to get lost, and soon.

"I'm teasing, love," he said with a small laugh, seeing her furious blush. She lifted her gaze from her feet to his eyes once again and saw that they were dancing and laughing. In the oddest way, she felt soothed by those eyes, that had seemed so harsh and critical only moments before. She had never seen such expressive eyes before, and they seemed to change color every time she looked at him. They had seemed a soft blue at the start of their conversation, warm and inviting, but with a hidden promise behind them; then they had turned a dark blue, almost onyx black as he chastised her for her prejudice; and now they were a steely grey. Claire couldn't help but be more than a little mesmerized by his eyes.

Her blush faded and she smiled softly, in spite of herself.

"What do you say we get out of here?" the stranger proposed. Claire felt her stomach lurch with panic. Although he had just shown her just how much of a bigot she was, Claire still wasn't comfortable leaving with him. She didn't know where they were going, how she would get home, she didn't even know his name. He could be a drug addict for all she knew. Yet, he enticed her, and she found herself wanting to go with him. This in itself scared Claire. She had been sworn off of men for so long, the very idea of following this one out the door was enough to make Claire run the other way. But the idea of getting out of here also appealed greatly to Claire. It was so hot and sweaty in the room and she was development a pounding headache from this repetitive music, that the idea of being cold outdoors where there would be some sort of calm was tantalizing.

"Don't worry, I won't rape you in the alley or anything," he said with a smile, a hint of what almost sounded like pleading in his voice. Claire realized that he really wanted her to go with him, to spend time with her. She wasn't used to this either. One quick scan of the crowd revealed Shannon dancing with some guy Claire had never seen before. This confirmed her dicision.

"Okay, let's go."

"Great," he said, giving her a smile that warmed her entire body. Grabbing her wrist, he pulled her out of the door, into the lobby, so they could reclaim their coats. Claire slipped into her black pea coat as they walked out of the doors into the very welcome brisk air that buffered their warm cheeks.

"So, where to?" Claire asked with a laugh. She was finding this spontaneous and fun, and very unlike herself. And surprisingly, she was enjoying it.

"Do you live far from here?" the stranger asked. Claire shook her head, her apartment was about ten blocks away.

"Well, why don't I walk you home then? You didn't drive, did you?"

"No, my friend Shannon drove. She won't miss me. She will probably be in there for hours yet."

"Oh, so you were dragged along with a friend. I figured."

"Were you?"

"Of course. My friend, Jack. He's the gay one."

"See!" Claire said indignantly, but with a laugh. "There was some truth in my prejudice!" She stole a sidelong glance at this stranger's profile. He was laughing with her, his eyes gray and dancing once again. He had a strong chin with defined cheekbones; soft, sensual lips that were curved into a smile; a unique nose that Claire couldn't help but find endearing; and soft, wispy hair was falling into those beautiful eyes.

He then stole his own sidelong glance at her, catching her in the act of studying his profile. She quickly looked away, her cheeks already flushed from the cold turning an even darker shade with her embarrassment.

He, of course, immediately figured out what Claire had been doing and had a small smirk on his face. Thankfully, he decided not to antagonize her about it.

"So, would that make your Shannon friend a whore? Seeing as my friend was gay, and that's what you accused me of," he asked, teasing her.

Claire, however, took the question seriously, and she bit her lip, a habit that she had since she was five years old. "I wouldn't call her a whore. I'd say that she was vulnerable and disappointed by her lover, giving her low self-esteem."

"Sounds like you've given this a lot of thought."

"I have. Trying to rationalize some of her actions. It makes the most sense to me though," Claire explained, feeling sort of exposed now that she was opening up to this stranger and telling him things that she had never told anyone else. But it felt nice to tell these things to someone else, someone who wasn't her child who couldn't even respond or begin to comprehend what she was telling him, that is.

"What did her lover do to her?" This was amazing. The stranger actually seemed interested in her and in what she was telling him.

"It's an on-going thing. They sleep together for a couple nights, a week at most, and then he finds someone new and he tosses her aside. It's quite vicious to watch."

"Wow, that would wreck havoc on someone's self-esteem, I would think."

"That's not even the twisted part," Claire said, feeling a bit gossipy now that she was getting to the juicy and scandalous part of the story. The stranger cocked his eyebrow at her in interest. "Her lover... is her step-brother."

He dropped his jaw and his eyes bulged.

"Yeah, it's quite... improper. Her step-mother detests her because of it. But not her son. No, Boone can do no wrong," Claire said, letting her anger seep into her voice.

"Not a fan of Boone's, I take it."

"I don't think that I could possibly be a 'fan' of anyone who could do that to another person," Claire said passionately.

"Whoa, I meant no offense to you."

"I know. It's just that Shannon is so picked apart by her step-mom and her step-brother and by the industry and sometimes it just feels like... I'm her only friend."

He nodded. "She's lucky to have you."

Claire noticed that they were now at her apartment complex. She felt a strange longing for this walk not to end. She had enjoyed his company and how he had listened to her, it felt like a long time since someone had done so simple a thing for her. But reality would not have it, and in a few strides they were practically at her door.

"Well, this is me," Claire said, pointing to her complex. She suddendly felt awkward as they stopped and she fumbled to get her keys out of her pocket.

The stranger nodded his head. "Well, it was nice talking to you..." his voice trailed off as he searched for a name.

"Claire."

"Claire," he finished. He then surprised her by leaning in and giving her a soft kiss on her cheek. With a smile, he turned and headed on down the street.

"Wait!" Claire called after him. He turned back to her. "What's your name?"

"Oh," he called back. "It's Charlie."


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer- In Chapter One

A/N- Not sure if I like this one... let me know in review form : )

* * *

Claire's morning started early for her, after having lain in her bed for at least two hours the previous night thinking about the intriguing new stranger that had been her unlikely saviour.

"Charlie," she whispered to her ceiling in the hazy darkness of her room, trying the new name on her lips. Despite herself, a warm feeling of contentment spread through her whole body, starting at her stomach and then spreading out to the tips of her toes, tingling in her fingers, curving her lips into a shy, unfamiliar smile. Somehow she felt warmer for saying that one name, thinking of that one stranger, than from her huge, fluffy comforter and her soft pillow.

Claire then rolled her eyes. "You are being ridiculous, Claire," she whispered into the thin air above her. She would probably never even see him again, it's not like he left an address to be reached at or a phone number. She didn't even know him. And it's not like he could really be any different from any other male that she knew -- not like he could be any better.

But what if he could?

And that's how Claire spent hours last night -- talking to her ceiling and the dust motes swirling in the air, seeming as if she suffered from mulitiple personality disorder while her mind raged on in a conflicting battle over someone she hardly knew and would probably never see again.

After her mind finally let her drift off to the safe respite of sleep, she was woken after what seemed like only two seconds. Aaron was awake and ready to be fed. At first she ignored him, but when Aaron's little whimpers had turned into full out shrieks, Claire reluctantly rolled out of her bed to attend to her son. It was times like these that she half wished she and Thomas were still together, so that she could make _him_ get up and feed Aaron and sleep late. But then, if she and Thomas were still together, Claire wouldn't be so tired out because she had been up in the wee hours of the night thinking about Charlie.

Trying to get the thought of Charlie out of her mind, Claire shook her head, as if her thoughts could be shaken out of her mind like snow out of her hair. Claire slowly trudged down the narrow hallway to Aaron's nursery. She picked him up, softly cooing and rocking him into contentment. His cries abated and soon he was giggling and pulling on Claire's hair.

"Ouch, that's not nice, Aaron. Pulling on mommy's hair. And you have to be good to me, I'm the only mommy you've got," she half scolded, half joked. Aaron just giggled at her and pulled another fistful of her hair.

Claire put Aaron in his highchair and gave him a banana to eat. Or, more accurately, to smush into the tray. She turned on the coffeemaker, she was going to need lots of caffeine to make it through this day.

"So, what's on the agenda for today?" Claire asked her son, looking at him as if he could actually give her a real answer. He responded with a giggle and a bang of his banana covered fist against his tray.

"Mamamama" he said with a beaming grin. Claire found herself smiling as broadly as her son despite her sleepy stupor. Nothing was quite as consoling to her as her son.

"Park it is then," Claire said, thinking that both she and Aaron needed to get out of this stuffy apartment for a bit. Plus, the place was a mess, but she was trying to avoid cleaning it in any way possible. She took a large swallow of her black coffee, trying to shake off her sleep.

However, a wrench was thrown into Claire's plans as soon as loud, frantic knocks came from her front door. It sounded as if someone was slapping it without relent. Only slightly jarred from her lethargic state, she went to answer her door.

"Hold on, I'm coming," she called crossly to the door, as each slap pounded into her brain, leaving her with a resonating headache. The last thing she needed today was a migrane.

She pulled open the door and was immediately sobered by the sight that greeted her.

Shannon, who had seemed so happy and at ease last night, had tears streaming furiously down her cheeks, her body seemed racked and strangled with sobs -- as if she had been crying for hours on end. Her eyes were red and she had violent black shadows under her eyes. She was still wearing her tight silver dress from last night, although now it looked worn and pathetic. Looking at it, every possible bad scenerio ran through Claire's head. She had been raped, she had been mugged, she had been in a car accident, she had attempted to commit suicide. Claire was so shocked by her friend's haggard appearance that anything seemed possible, especially when she considered the delicate state she knew her friend was, thanks to Boone's latest desertion.

"They were there!" She yelled shrilly, as if that explained everything. She walked into Claire's living room, falling back dramatically on the couch. Her body shook with silent sobs. Claire followed her into the room, her mouth gaping -- she had never seen Shannon like this before. Shannon was never anything less than composed. This utter breakdown was such a shock to Claire that it left her gaping like a fish out of water.

"They?" Claire asked tentatively, finally finding her voice, but she had a pretty good guess who 'they' were.

"Boone and his whore!" Shannon yelled. Claire shushed her, acting purely on reflex, Aaron was in the other room after all and she didn't want him to pick up language like that. "Boone and that -- Natasha." Shannon said her name as if it was a byword for the dirtiest, nastiest thing in the world.

"Oh," Claire said softly. She watched as her friend curled up into the fetal position, hysterical cries coming from her curled form, and felt completely useless. She was always so awkward and uncomfortable in these situations -- she never knew what to say or what she should do. And the fact that it was Shannon, who always was so good at masking her true emotions, made Claire that much more sluggish.

"When did they get there? I never saw him..." Claire said, for lack of finding anything else to say to her. She hardly expected an answer though, she didn't even think Shannon heard her, her cries were so loud and frantic.

"Well of course _you_ wouldn't!" Shannon said, startling Claire because she hadn't expected an answer, but startling her even more was the venom in Shannon's voice. Shannon sat up on the couch, turning to face Claire, tears coursing down her bright red cheeks. "Where did you nip off to after midnight? Do you have any idea how much I _needed_ you when Boone showed up? I was an absolute wreck and you were nowhere to be found!"

Claire recoiled from her friend. She was never good at confrontations, and hearing people yell at her always made her throat tighten with tears. She was never good at defending herself. If she were, Thomas wouldn't have partial custody of her son.

"I left," Claire said in a pathetically small voice. "With..." her voice trailed off, and her cheeks burned crimson as she realized what it sounded like to say she left with Charlie.

"You left _with_ someone?" Shannon said incredulously. Claire couldn't tell if Shannon was disgusted or impressed. "You? The one who always preaches to me about how I shouldn't leave with strange guys I don't know? The one who was so concerned about her son she was leaving at home with a baby-sitter? The one who hates every human with a Y chromosome?"

"No no no!" Claire shouted trying to protect herself from her friend's brutal attack. She reminded herself that Shannon was only acting this way because she was hurt by Boone. But why did Shannon have to take this anger out on her? Why not on Boone, who deserved every bit of Shannon's anger? Claire couldn't help but feel a little hurt by Shannon's onslaught. Claire had been Shannon's steadfast friend through all of her troubles, while Boone had been the cause of all her agonies. It all seemed so backwards and unfair.

"I mean, I _did_ leave with someone, but it was nothing like what you are thinking!" Claire said in a rush, looking at Shannon's stormy face.

"Oh, really? What was it like then?" Shannon asked angrily. "I can't believe that you left with someone!"

Now Claire was confused. Why was Shannon so angry that she had left with someone? Claire could understand her being angry because she had left Shannon to fend for herself against Boone and Natasha. She could understand Shannon being angry if Claire had left with someone for a one night stand, contridicting everything she preached to Shannon. But she couldn't understand why the mere fact that she left with someone else was making her so angry.

"He just walked me back to my apartment!" Claire said, trying not to let her hurt rise in her voice. _It's just transferrance. Shannon's mad at Boone, not me_, Claire repeated over and over in her head. "Why is it such a big deal that I left with someone?" Claire asked, trying not to feel like she had done something wrong.

"Who was it?" Shannon asked her, leaving Claire's question unanswered.

"Why does it matter?" Claire shot back. She had found her voice and the one question that Shannon couldn't answer. She would stand her ground this time. However, Shannon's reaction wasn't what she expected. Her face crumpled, and the tears that had abated during her accusations made a vengeful return. And that's when Claire realized why Shannon was so hurt. She felt betrayed and deserted. Boone had betrayed her and left her, and now she thought that Claire had done the same.

"Shannon," Claire said, hurting for her friend, for the bitterness and loneliness she was feeling that was invading every cell of her body. Boone's betrayal was slowly poisoning her friend. Claire sat down next to her friend on the couch, and for the first time in their one and a half year friendship, Claire pulled her friend into her arms. Shannon cried into Claire's shoulder, letting out all the things that she couldn't say out loud spill out onto the fabric of Claire's top.

"God, I'm a disaster," Shannon said, with the odd laugh that always follows crying.

"Are you okay?" Claire asked her friend with concern. Shannon nodded her head and wiped her eyes. "Do you want to talk about Boone and Natasha and last night?" Shannon sighed heavily and then shook her head. Claire nodded and gave her friend another quick hug. "You're going to be all right, Shan."

"Thanks, Claire," Shannon said with a sad smile.

"You know I'm always here, right? Even though I wasn't with you last night, I'll always be there for you in some way. Maybe not physically, but I'm still with you."

"I know," Shannon said in a small voice. "I'm sorry I let into you so badly about that. It's not you I'm mad at, it's just that last night..."

"You don't have to explain, Shan. It's okay."

"I don't know what I'd do without you, Claire."

"I don't either," Claire said with a laugh. "Hey, Aaron and I are going to go out for a walk in the park, do you want to go with us?"

Shannon shook her head. "No, I need to get some sleep. Besides, I don't go outside before 9 PM," she joked, standing up and heading to the door. "Thanks, though."

"Yeah. I'll see you later, okay?"

Shannon nodded and left. Claire shut the door behind her and felt the closer to Shannon than she ever had.

She turned back to go check up on Aaron in the kitchen. She was surprised that he had been so quiet during all of Shannon's visit. He hadn't cried for her once, she had hardly heard him at all. As she entered the kitchen she couldn't help but laugh at her son. He had been productive in her absense. Banana was smeared all over the tray of his highchair, it was covering all of his face and it was smushed in his hair. As she walked in, he looked up at her guiltily, then quickly wriggled out of his highchair and toddled out of the kitchen.

"No you don't, mister!" Claire laughed, running after her son. "We've got to clean you up." Aaron knew that a bath was coming, and tried to get away from his mother as fast as he could. Unforetunatly, his small unsteady legs were nothing against his mother's long strides, and she caught him in two steps. They both giggled as Claire swooped him up into her arms, and headed to the bathroom to wash him up.

However, her direction changed as soon as there was a knock at the door. Figuring it was only Shannon, she headed back to the door with her banana covered son.

"What now?" she said with a laugh, as she pulled the door open. She almost dropped her son, who was wriggling in her arms to get away, when she saw who stood on the other side of the door.

"Charlie?"


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer- In Chapter One

A/N- Well, not too much to report. As always, an apology for being so late in updating. It's really quite inexcusable because writing this story has been so easy so far, all I need is the inspiration to write it! I think I like this chapter, but I haven't had a chance to reread it, so maybe tomorrow I'll feel differently. For tonight, though, I like it. I like the domestic feel it has. But that's just me. Let me know...

* * *

"Charlie?"

Claire stood in the doorway, looking at her visitor in disbelief. Was he really there? Why would he come to see her? She who first offended him and then talked his head off about Shannon? But he was undoubtedly there, standing in the hallway with a small, almost shy smile on his lips that was already too familiar to her from the image that had been branded on the back of her eyelids last night, keeping her from sleep. It looked as though he had slept well though, no thoughts of her had haunted his head. And why should they? Who was she to him? Who was he to her?

The tug of war in her mind from last night was back. She tried to bury her thoughts and just focus on what was happening, rather than just the random speculation that left her confused, irritated and exhausted.

But as soon as her mind quieted, a new anxiety distressed her. Her small apartment was a wreck, she looked as if she had just rolled out of bed (which she practically had), her eyes were red from the tears she had shed with Shannon, and her son was giggling and crawling away from her, covered in banana. One look at her and Charlie probably wished that he hadn't come here for... well, whatever he was here for. Self-consciously, she pulled a hand through her flyaway hair, trying to tame it.

"Hey," Charlie said, breaking the silence.

"Hey," Claire replied, awkwardly. "Umm... do you want to come in?" she asked feebly, stepping back to let him through. She shut the door behind him, allowing herself to panic for a few seconds while Charlie stepped into her living room, his back to her. He had only seen her in a party dress, all made up for a night out with Shannon. Her baggy pajamas, tangled hair and red, sleepy eyes were a stark difference from last night. And as for Aaron, she hadn't even told him she was a mother. That was going to be a bit of a shock for him. But why did it even matter? So, she wasn't exactly presentable and she was a mother, why should that matter? It's not like she was trying to impress Charlie or anything, why should she? And besides, this is who she was, so if he came to see her, well, now he saw the real her.

With a silent sigh, she turned to Charlie. "Sorry, this place is a bit of a wreck..." she trailed off, going to the kitchen and attempting to clean the apparent banana explosion.

"No, don't," Charlie said to her, following her into the kitchen. She looked up at him and gave him a small, puzzled smile. "I like it. It's natural. People who live in houses that are spotless scare me. I feel dirty and uncomfortable. But this... this is human."

Claire smiled in appreciation. He sounded genuine, and she hoped that he was actually telling her the truth, and it wasn't just a put-on.

Aaron, who was curious where his mother had gone off to, wobbled into the kitchen. He bashfully hid behind Claire's legs when he saw Charlie, peeping up at him curiously.

She laughed at her son, kneeled down and picked him up. "This is my son Aaron," she said to Charlie. "Aaron, this is Charlie," she said to her little boy, who looked up at her with big eyes, then turned his blue gaze on Charlie. If Charlie was surprised that she was a mother, he hid it remarkably well.

"Hey there, tyke," he said, leaning down to talk to Aaron in a sweet childish voice. "Are you the man of the house?" Aaron giggled in response, his bright inquisitive stare softening as he decided that Charlie was a friend. He put a chubby arm out and grabbed a long brown lock of Charlie's hair. Charlie howled, pretending to be gravely hurt, causing Aaron to collapse in a fit of giggles and let go of his hair.

Charlie straightened and looked at Claire again, who was smiling at him. "He's a happy baby, eh?"

Claire looked down at her still laughing child and nodded, laughing along with him. "Happy, but naughty. Just look what he did to this kitchen and himself. And now he's getting a temporary reprieve from his bath. Such a naughty boy!" she teased him, blowing a raspberry on his fat little cheek. She looked up to see Charlie looking at her and Aaron in a strange way. Not a creepy sort of way that sent shivers down her back, but an almost longing way that sent shivers down her back for an entirely different reason, a reason that she hadn't experienced in a long time, and hadn't expected to ever again.

"Do you mind if I give him a bath? He desperately needs one..." Claire said, feeling awkward again. Giving her son a bath with Charlie seemed strange, too domestic. She had never bathed him with anyone else, not even with his father.

"Sure. Actually, if you don't mind... I'd like to help you. I've always been a baby guy," Charlie said, for the first time in this whole strange encounter sounding a little awkward. Despite herself, Claire felt a part of her... well, she couldn't exactly find the word for what was pulling at her heart. She supposed it was what some people described as "melting", but Claire didn't quite think that was the right way to describe it. It was more like a mixture of feeling wanted, of being good enough as she was, a feeling of gratification after so much work and effort that seemed useless until he came along. She could feel herself being compelled to him, to know him, every facet of him. Maybe some people would call it melting, but to Claire, it was the opposite. She wasn't becoming the shapeless puddle of a lovesick girl, it felt to her more like she was finally coming together, as if she was being built up in her most perfect form, and his were the hands that were shaping her.

"Sure," Claire said with a bright smile. "I'd appreciate that." And as she said, she realized that she meant it. She hadn't asked for this, for his friendship or his help, she hadn't even known that she wanted it, but now that she had it, she knew that she needed it - the companionship of someone who wasn't Shannon. Claire loved Shannon dearly, even more since this morning, but the bald facts were that their relationship was more about Shannon than about Claire. But with Charlie...

The bathroom is this way," Claire said, leading Charlie out of the kitchenette with her son in her arms who, realizing that his bath was coming, was trying to get out of them.

Together, Claire and Charlie got the bath running and Aaron out of his clothes and into the porcelain tub. Aaron began to splash, getting Charlie and Claire, who were kneeling next to each other at the side of the tub, very wet in the process. They laughed together, Claire, Charlie and Aaron. The feeling of togetherness, the feeling of how right this was, both scared and excited Claire. After all, she hardly knew Charlie. He hadn't told her anything about him. She didn't know if his parents were alive, if he was an only child, what he did for a living, she knew next to nothing about him besides the fact that when she was with him she felt happy and content and alive.

She didn't even know why he had come to see her today. It was with this thought that she turned to him while Aaron was preoccupied with his millions of bath toys. "I don't want to sound rude, but... why are you here?"

He continued to look down at Aaron, a hand supporting his back, and a small smile played on his lips. Claire wasn't quite sure, but it almost looked like he was blushing. The very thought was endearing. "I know, you probably think I'm stalking you or something. But the simple fact of the matter is that I like you. I like talking to you. I like listening to you. I just like... you."

Now Claire was the one blushing and diverting her gaze, but she could feel her own wide grin. She didn't know how long it had been since she had heard someone say that they simply liked her. Just her. She didn't know if she had ever heard it before.

"That's sweet," she finally said, still grinning. "Maybe a little stalkerish," she teased, looking over at him.

"Oh, sod off, you like it," he teased back with a half-smile on his lips, splashing the arm that she had dangling in the tub. She giggled. That in itself scared her. She hadn't giggled like a schoolgirl with a crush since the very beginning of her and Thomas' relationship, and then she _had_ been a schoolgirl with a crush. But the sudden tide wave of emotion that swept her up and pulled her under scared her even more. This is impossible, she kept saying to herself over and over again, as if she would believe her litany if she said it enough times. It was impossible to have all these feelings, most of which contradict each other, coursing through her veins after knowing Charlie for less than 24 hours. But the fact remained that the feelings were pumping through her body, pulsing in her heart, alive in every cell of her body.

Aaron giggled with his mother, although his giggle had more to do with the Charlie's splash than flirting. Soon, his little hands slapped the water's surface, getting his mother very wet.

"You too?" she said, pretending to be hurt by Aaron. "You and Charlie are just ganging up against me because I'm a female," she said with a pout. Aaron giggled and Charlie gave her a smile that warmed her entire body. Her fake pout melted as she returned the smile, her eyes locked with Charlie's.

Aaron sat in the tub, looking between his mom's face and his new friend's face. Somewhere, he had gotten lost between the two of them. Pouting, he gave the water a tremendous slap, and both of the adults were drenched and their attentions had turned from each other back to Aaron.

"Okay, I think we've had a long enough bath," Claire declared, wringing out the wet ends of her hair and thanking God that she hadn't worn a white shirt to sleep in last night.

She stood and grabbed a towel from the back of the door. She picked up her little boy with it, wrapping his wet naked body in it's warm folds. He began to shiver as little rivers ran down his body from his wet curls. He wrapped his arms around her neck to get warm, and Claire could feel her already sodden shirt clinging to her skin uncomfortably. She gently rocked her baby boy and walked to his room to get him changed, Charlie following behind her.

She turned to him. "Would you mind getting him changed while I go change my own clothes?" she asked suddenly. Charlie's eyes lit up and he held out his arms to take the shivering body from Claire. As she handed her baby over, she noticed how easily Aaron went to Charlie. That, more than anything else, made her trust Charlie. Babies were like animals, they always knew who to trust, and if Aaron could trust Charlie, so could Claire. She also couldn't help but notice the tenderness with which Charlie held Aaron. It wasn't as if he was afraid to break her son, as Shannon always was, but more like Aaron was the most precious thing he ever had the responsibility of holding. Claire hadn't even seen Aaron's father handle him so carefully, so reverently. As she had so many times in this short visit, she felt the contradictory jolt of excitement mingled with fear.

She left the two boys to go to her own room. As she passed through the small apartment, she did all she could to remove some of the clutter. She put all of Aaron's toys in the chest where they belonged, she straightened the mail that was spread out all over the table in the counter, she put away the food that had been left out. It was an improvement, but Claire still felt a little embarrassed by her house that looked like a hurricane had ripped apart. It _had_ been ripped apart by a hurricane, Claire told herself. Hurricane Aaron. Smiling at that thought, she went to her room and dressed quickly, tried to tame her hair and applied a little makeup to her face.

She found the boys in the living room, Aaron lying on Charlie's shoulder and sucking his thumb while Charlie looked out of the sliding door that led out to the balcony. She smiled to herself and walked over to them.

"Thanks," she said softly to Charlie. She wasn't sure what she was thanking him for -- for coming to visit her, for helping her bathe her son, or for getting Aaron dressed so she could get herself taken care of. Maybe it was a mixture of all of those.

Charlie just smiled warmly at her, "You're quite welcome."

"I'm sorry that he got you so wet," she said with a small laugh.

"Well, you know what could solve that little problem?" he asked with a challenging smile at her.

She raised an eyebrow, her own challenging look. "Do tell."

"A walk outside. The sun'll dry me in no time," he suggested, with a cheeky grin.

Claire smiled back at him, tucking a stray peice of hair behind her ear. "Okay," she said easily. She had the uneasy yet exciting feeling that she would agree to whatever Charlie asked of her. And she didn't want Charlie to leave yet. Because she was beginning to realize that she liked him. Talking to him. Being with him. Just him.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer- In Chapter One.

A/N- This chapter came out way different than I expected. It also took me longer than usual. But I think it's all right. Maybe a little heavy. But I feel like it was necessary. Well, let me know...

* * *

Claire's laughter rang through her small kitchenette. It was soon joined by his own laughter, and rather than sounding discordant, their voices blended to make the most beautiful song Claire had ever heard, a song of friendship, a song finding something that she thought was lost forever. It was nearing midnight, but Claire was more awake than she had ever been in her life, and it wasn't from the coffee that she was drinking, more like from the company she was keeping.

"It's our one day anniversary!" Charlie yelled as their laughter subsided and the clock turned to 12:00.

"Shh!" Claire lightly chastised him. Had it been anyone else, she would have been really annoyed for both her son's benefit and her own. Because if Aaron woke up, not only was his night disrupted, but so was Claire's. But there were no cries from Aaron's bedroom, and it was Charlie, so Claire found that it was impossible to be upset with him. Instead, she laughed along with him, wanting to shout out in celebration too. 24 hours since she had met him, 24 hours since her frozen heart began to defrost, 24 hours since she realized that not all men were horrible. Almost all of those 24 hours had been spent with him -- Charlie and Aaron, the only two men she would let into her heart anymore.

Her afternoon with those very two men had been beautiful. They had walked around the small Sydney suburb, the sun drying Charlie's wet hair and shirt. Claire couldn't help but notice the different perspective she had of her neighborhood as she stood next to Charlie. The air smelled cleaner, it was cooler and crisper on her cheeks with the delightful promise of wintry weather. The colors surrounding her were clearer, the grass had never been more green in Claire's eyes -- it was less like the dull green and the prickly blades that she usually saw and more like a carpet of the emerald green velvet. The birds overhead weren't cawing like vultures feasting on a carrion, but singing sweetly like a wood thrush in mating season. The sky was no longer a pale grey color, but a vibrant indigo. The sun was shining so brightly that only her smile outshone it. Sneaking a sidelong glance at the man beside her she wondered how one person could bring such a change to her. Not only did the world around her seem more beautiful, but she herself felt more beautiful, a beautiful radiant glow that warmed her cheeks and her entire body. It was as if he was some source of beauty, that brought life to everything he came into contact with.

They walked until they came to a small children's park. Charlie, who had been pushing Aaron in his stroller, stopped and let Claire's bright-eyed son out of his seat. He giggled and clapped his hands in excitement. Before toddling off to the sandbox, he turned and looked at Claire, as if he was asking her permission.

"Play?" he asked, his eyes big and round, a little pout playing at his lips. Already he knew how to manipulate his mother, and he was only a little over one year old. He was going to be hell when he could actually string together a full sentence.

She looked to Charlie, who gave her identical puppy eyes and playful pout. A smile spread over her entire face, throughout her entire body. She wouldn't have denied her son in the first place, but working tandem they were invincible.

They took her smile as an assent, which it was, and Charlie happily sat with Aaron in the sandbox, not complaining or flinching at all when Aaron put sand in his hair. He pushed Aaron on the toddler swings, not too high to make Claire anxious, but high enough to make Aaron think he was the highest person in the world. Together, they fed the fat, overfed ducks that drifted lazily on the pond's smooth surface. Charlie was tireless as her son dragged him all over the park, eager to play with someone who wasn't his mother. He attended to Aaron's every need, he was unendingly patient, he was his protector, his toy, and overall, his friend. The sight of the two of them, her favorite males, put her in such a happy, contented mood that she thought it would be enough just to watch the two all day long. Her maternal instincts were still in tact though, and watching her small vulnerable baby with this man that, let's face it, she hardly knew, was a little concerning. However, Claire's intuition told her that she could trust Charlie, and watching the two play confirmed this in her mind.

After the park, Charlie and Claire continued their walk, with Aaron sleeping in his stroller after expending all his energy. This was the highlight of Claire's afternoon, because it gave her some time to talk to Charlie alone.

"I'm really glad you stopped by, Charlie. You made this whole day so much better," Claire said softly, suddenly self-conscious. Without the distraction of Aaron, Charlie felt more like a stranger, and Claire was less certain of what to say or how to act. The fact that butterflies were fluttering relentlessly in her stomach didn't help matters, either.

Charlie smiled, not meeting her eyes, instead looking down at Aaron, asleep in the stroller he was pushing.

"Really, you are an amazing person, Charlie. I can't thank you enough for saving me last night. And this afternoon with Aaron... I really appreciate it."

Again, there was no reply from Charlie but his shy smile down at Aaron.

"I feel like I'm just babbling on -- spouting like a fountain," Claire said, embarrassed. "Last night, you barely got a word in edgewise. First, I verbally assaulted you, and then after that just kept on about Shannon's soap opera. And today, it's been all about me and Aaron. And now I'm doing it again," Claire said, blushing. "I'm sorry. Your turn, I promise I'll be quiet," she teased.

He looked up at her, his cobalt eyes boring into her own, making the tips of her fingers tingle and her body weightless. "I like listening to you," he said simply. She smiled and blushed. "I like how you are so self-conscious when you are complimented or don't know what to say. I like how natural you are when you are with Aaron. I like the different voice you use with him. I like how you are so simple and clean and perfect. So uncorrupted..."

He trailed off, his eyes no longer seeing her, but rather lost somewhere else. What he had just said to her told her more than anything else he had said that day. He was goofy and cute when he played with her son. He seemed so happy and free to Claire, something that had initially pulled her in to him. He embraced spontaneity, he was fun and easy to be around. But underneath that, underneath his carefree varnish, there was someone who was broken and betrayed, someone hurting. This, more than his happy personality, made her want to know him. She wanted to know why he was hurting, how she could fix him, or at least patch him up. She wanted to help him, this forlorn spirit that had, for some unknown reason, chosen her.

"I'm not so innocent," Claire said softly, pulling him away from his hurt. "Trust me, I have a lot of my own baggage."

Charlie laughed, but it wasn't like any of his other laughs that she had heard. This one was laced with bitterness -- something she didn't associate with him. "I don't think you could possibly have any more baggage than me."

"Single mother at 23, disowned by mother and deserted by boyfriend," Claire recited, a bleak statement of her life.

"Orphan at 12. Forsaken by brother, left with nothing but blame, a big, echoy apartment and a father who will never acknowledge me."

"I thought you said you were an orphan," Claire said softly, struck by his list of sorrows.

"My mum died when I was 11. My dad put me and my brother up for adoption when we were 12. I am an orphan. If you ask my dad if he had any sons, he would say that he never married."

Claire looked up at him, her heart bleeding as she heard the cold detattchment and bitterness in his voice. She didn't know what to say. She knew he didn't want pity or insincere condolences. Being a single mother, she spoke from experience. Instead she told him about her own father.

"They always fought -- my parents. He was a pharmacist, so we were well off, but he lacked the prestige he thought a doctor had. It's strange how adults always place so much on profession. Anyway, she had an affair -- with a doctor. They would fight for hours, and it was never about the big things, you know? It was about the meals she cooked rather than the fact that she had a lover. I don't know if the fights caused the lover or the lover caused the fights, but either way, he knew. The blunt of their fights always fell on me though. All that anger and resentment they held for each other was released on me. He was always worse. He would confront me with everything -- grades, what I was wearing, people I was seeing. At first I would try to defend myself, but he always pulled the typical 'I'm the dad' card, and I lost every time. Finally I gave up the fight, and to this day I'm horrible at confrontations. I freeze up every time and it's his face I see yelling down at me. My parents divorced when I was 16, and I rarely saw my father, the never. When I was 21, I got pregnant, and my mother cut all ties with me. So I guess you could say that I'm an orphan too."

Instead of turning a drippy, sympathetic smile on her or giving her empty, pretty phrases, he said nothing and simply took the hand that was hanging at her side into his own. That simple gesture brought more comfort to her than anything he could have said or done. She hoped that she had somehow returned the favor for Charlie, and looking up at his happy contented smile it looked as if she had.

"Enough of this heaviness. Tell me something happy," Claire said smiling, her hand still tucked in his.

"Something happy?"

"Yeah. Something from your childhood."

"My childhood? There's not too many happy stories from my childhood... Oh, here's one. When I was about eight or nine and Liam -- that's my brother -- was ten or so, my mum took the two of us to London. We spent the whole afternoon there, going to the different parks and other touristy places, Westminster Abbey and the Tower of London, those kinds of places. But the best part of the afternoon for me was when we went to Charing Cross Road. Have you ever been? I think I could spend days there. It's bookshop after bookshop. I tried to count them, but I lost the number after awhile. I was a literature lover and always buried in a book. My brother Liam thought I was a ponce and never missed an oppertunity to make fun of my obsession. Liam was sort of one of those dumb brutes, but he was loud and fun and had lots of friends, who also liked to take the mickey out on me.

"Naturally, Charing Cross Road was a paradise for me, and my mum let me spend a good bit of time just going through the different specialty and secondhand shops. But it was only the beginning, a prelude to the heaven that I was about to discover.

"Eventually, slowly, we came to Denmark Street. It's a street almost entirely dedicated to music. There were musicians on the streets, and every different type of music was represented -- pop, jazz, rhythm and blues, punk music, rock... all blending into one communal song. And there were shops selling records, instruments, sheet music, everything... Liam and I both were eager to explore this amazing street, and nearly tore our mother in half as we pulled her in every direction. But she was so patient with us -- letting us see everything we wanted. Liam was more into the hard rock and punk while I wanted to spend all of our time at the piano place. I had pounded at the old piano at our school, and I loved it. Liam got as many records as he could with his money, but most of mine had been spent on books. But all it took was that hour in Denmark Street. After that my books were replaced with records and all my time was consumed with music. That one afternoon was what got the whole tragic ball rolling," Charlie told her, his eyes shining with his happiness. Claire found that she was smiling with him. She could see him as a little boy, overwhelmed at the animated street, his face alight as he fell in love music.

"Tragic ball?"

"That's a story for a different time. We are sharing happy stories, remember?"

So those perfect 24 hours passed, exchanging stories with each other, little bits of their childhood that they had almost forgotten, recapturing parts of themselves that they thought would always be missing.

And as the clock turned to 12:00, Claire felt like shouting out with him, careless of who they woke up, because now Claire was finally awake herself.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer- There's one around here somewhere...

A/N- I think this chapter is the shortest one I have in this story, but I think I packed a lot into it. At least I hope so. I personally hate waiting for a new chapter on a story and then getting only a short, inadequate chapter. It's like a drop of water when you are dying of thirst, making you more thirsty than you were before. Wow, I'm getting off track here. Well, I guess that's sort of the theme of this whole chapter. I'm sorry if whoever is reading it isn't into a whole chapter of a character thinking... because that basically all this chapter is. I personally enjoy chapters like that, so you can get to exactly where the character is and also understand some of their later actions, etc. And unfortunately Charlie doesn't make an appearance in this chapter, but the basically the entire thing is about him. I promise that Charlie will be in most of the next update. The next chapter should really appease the Charlie/Claire lovers out there, if it goes according to plan.

Anyway, I hope everyone likes what I did with this chapter and isn't too bored at the end of it. Feedback is always appreciated.

Thanks to Mandi who inspired me to actually open WordPad and work on this story again. Thanks, hope you enjoy what I've got for you.

* * *

"Claire? Are you even listening to me?"

"Wha- oh, sorry, Shannon. I'm sort of out of it. I didn't get much sleep last night."

Shannon replied by arching one perfectly defined eyebrow at her friend, and Claire wasn't sure whether it was out of curiosity or disapproval -- not like she was one to preach about late nights, though. Claire immediately thought of why she had been up late, talking with Charlie who had stopped by to visit her and Aaron again, a now nearly daily ritual, and felt a blush creep up her cheeks.

_Don't blush, Claire, you ponce! Then Shannon will _know_ something is up. No, she'll __think__ something is up. Because nothing IS up... right? Argh. _

As Claire suspected, Shannon's eyebrow reached new heights, almost level with her hairline. "Why were you up so late?" she said suspiciously, and Claire was distinctly reminded of a hound on a scent.

"Aaron," Claire said immediately, the lie ready before Shannon's question was asked. "He was up all night crying."

Although the lie was plausible enough, Claire was a horrible and inexperienced liar, and she knew that she hadn't fooled Shannon. Luckily though, Shannon was too absorbed by her story to interrogate Claire any further. Not that she would forget about it, and do some spywork later. But Claire could deal with that when it came.

"Well, back to my story," Shannon said, after giving Claire an odd look, a sort of mixture of confusion, disbelief and calculation. "Boone called and told me..."

As Shannon continued on about Boone and Natasha's current relationship problems while searching through her wardrobe, trying to figure out what she was going to wear to her next photo shoot, Claire yet again fazed her out. Claire had heard all that was possible to hear about Boone over the past year and a half, had already heard this particular story at least three times, and her mind had more important things to preoccupy itself with anyway.

Namely, Charlie. It had been a month since they had met, and they had spent almost every single one of those 30 days together. Claire had begun to depend on seeing his face every night as much as she depended on seeing Aaron's. The few nights that Charlie hadn't been there to talk to after putting Aaron to bed were the loneliest nights Claire had ever had to endure. She had grow so accustomed to having him there -- to laugh with, to watch Jay Leno with, to talk to about her day, her childhood, the new word Aaron learned... anything and everything was covered in their late night talks -- that when he wasn't there Claire felt so empty, and all she could hear were the echoes resounding in her empty self.

And these lonely nights not only made her feel miserable, but scared her as well. What was happening to her? A month ago, she would never have opened her door to him -- a rough around the edges musician, but kindred spirit. Now it was as if she needed him, as if she couldn't bear the thought of being without him. She couldn't do this, she had sworn herself off of men. She couldn't become dependent on someone else. She had Aaron to look after, to be a mother to. If she became dependent on Charlie and he left her, then what would happen to her and Aaron?

And she couldn't very well tell Charlie never to leave her, that would have the opposite of the desired effect. Besides, they had only known each other for a month. If she told him that she couldn't bear the thought of being without him, he would no doubt think she was being some needy, obsessive stalker and be gone so fast Claire would be left clutching empty air.

So at the moment she was stuck. She couldn't continue on like this, as if every breath she took was to bring her closer to him, but she couldn't _not_ see him either. She had to somehow tell him that she needed him, but she couldn't tell him with out pushing him out of the door in the same declaration.

No, all that she could do right now was savor every moment she had with him, hoping to dear god that it wasn't her last. Claire felt as if they were forever in this state of ambiguity.

And that brought up more issues and concerns. What were she and Charlie? Where were they going with this friendship? Why was she feeling so uncontent with simply a friendship?

Because they were undoubtedly friends, and Claire would even go so far as to call him her best friend. But at the same time their relationship was more than platonic, yet less than romantic, somewhere stuck in the middle. But when was it going to progress? Did Claire want it to progress? If it progressed then she was dependent on him, and that was exactly where she knew she shouldn't be. But if it degressed, then she wouldn't have him, and she couldn't even begin to fathom how miserable she would be if that were the case. Yet staying in the middle as they were now was just as unbearable. The whole time they were together it was as if there was this barrier between them, a thin glass wall that separated them, allowing them to see one another, talk to one another, but never touch one another. All Claire wanted to do was the pick up a sledgehammer and shatter the pane of glass, but every time she was held back by her fear of being left in the ruin, the shards of glass her only company as she realized that Charlie hadn't been behind the glass, but rather reflected by it, and now lost forever.

Claire knew she was becoming dependent on him, like it or not. And as much as she knew she shouldn't be liking it, she was exhilarated by it -- electrified every time she saw him smile at her, struck dumb every time she heard him say her name, naked and exposed every time she was even in his mere presence.

And even though it would seem if that was the answer to all of her problems -- to just let whatever was taking her over, take her -- there were still more issues nagging her in the back of her mind.

One in particular being that she still felt as if Charlie was a stranger to her. Every time they met they were at her apartment. Claire didn't even know where Charlie lived. She knew of all the people of his past and who she supposed were still a part of his present, but she had never met them. She knew he worked as a music critic and played at bars or small venues whenever the opportunity was presented, but she had never actually heard him play anything. She was enraptured by him, but at the same time, she had never seen him in his own element. She knew that his past was full of bitterness and that he harboured deep feelings of resentment for his brother, but Claire didn't know exactly why. This all left her a little unsettled. How could she be falling so fast for someone who she only knew from her viewpoint? Everything she knew about him had been told to her by himself, so how could she be sure he wasn't just making it all up?

But then she thought about it from Charlie's point of view. Everything he knew about her had been told to him from her. And she hadn't made up anything about herself. Could she trust that? And Charlie hadn't met any of the people Claire talked about either, other than Aaron, of course. But of all the people she talked about, Shannon was probably the only one he even could meet, or at least the only person she would want him to meet. Could it be that it was the same for him?

And this brought up something else that bothered her a bit about their relationship. All of the time they spent together was spent in Claire's apartment. Very very rarily did they venture past the threshold of her home, and usually they only left to take Aaron to the park. Maybe Claire and Charlie could be a perfectly functional couple in the safety and familiarity of Claire's apartment, but when they actually entered the world they would break down. Then what?

This, then, brought out another strange thought. Claire was almost reluctant to tell anyone about this burgeoning relationship. She had been hiding it from Shannon, who she usually told everything to (not that there ever really was anything), she had been hiding it from Thomas, who, even though she didn't want to admit it, had a big part in her life. Her oldest friend, Abby, couldn't even be trusted with this. The only people who knew about Charlie and Claire were Charlie and Claire. And Aaron, but he was a bit too young to grasp exactly what the sparks flying around him meant. Claire wasn't exactly sure why this bothered her, but it did. Why wasn't she telling Shannon? Why was she telling Charlie to come later to avoid meeting Thomas whenever they had to exchange the little boy that connected them? Was she embarrassed by him? No, that wasn't it. He was her solace, and she could never be embarrassed by him. Was she embarrassed by the life she led? Somehow, she didn't think that Charlie would judge her or think differently of her because of the very basic and boring life she led. Besides, he already knew about it from what she told him every night. Did she not want all the other people in her life to ruin the sanctity of their relationship? Perhaps, but Claire didn't think that anybody could possibly violate it or totally shatter it. The purity of their relationship was more than something anyone could do. So why was she trying so hard to keep Charlie a secret?

What were she and Charlie?

What was going to become of them?

Would she be able to overcome her fear of becoming dependent on him?

Who was Charlie?

Would they be able to break down whatever was holding both of them back?

When would they finally be able to break that barrier?

When would she finally reveal Charlie to everyone in her life?

When would she be introduced to everyone in his life?

But overall...

When would she see him next?

Shannon sighed heavily and fell down into her leather chair dramatically. "God, this is such a mess, Claire."

"I know," Claire agreed, completely unaware that Shannon wasn't talking about her and Charlie.


End file.
